


The Moment You Know

by islasands



Category: Adam Lambert (Musician)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-06
Updated: 2013-04-06
Packaged: 2017-12-07 15:41:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/750195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/islasands/pseuds/islasands
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is a farewell ficlet, saying goodbye to my Lamb/Sauli fiction. My characters bear no resemblance to the real Adam Lambert and Sauli Koskinen. They're my characters, straight out of my head.</p><p>But real people and events are what make the imagination tick, and so I owe a debt of inspiration to Adam and his music. </p><p>The music is David Bowie's "Where Are We Now". </p><p>The story itself is not about an ending but a continuation. The rivers of our lives and loves don't suddenly stop. They flow to far off lakes and seas and never quite arrive. And they are continually being replenished by melting snow.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Moment You Know

"Where Are We Now?"

 

David Bowie

 

 

  


 

 

 

He breathed in and out, aware that the air was no different to air he had been breathing all his life, but somehow it felt different. His lungs had been changed. He had been sharing the breath of life with someone dear to him and it had done something to his insides. His thoracic cavity felt like that, a cavity. Subterranean. You could drop a man down there and they would find a network of caves whose ceilings were hung with the solidified tears of rocks. And the floor too would be covered in jagged pinnacles where the tears had landed. There would be pools that were blacker than the pupils of eyes and streams clattering wildly in the silence and in some places the dark would be relieved by thousands of creatures who use light to catch their dinners.

_That's what lies beneath_ , he thought. _And it will do. It will have to do. No-one in their right mind would want to crawl around in my depths! Nevertheless, they are mine. I am their custodian. And now more than ever I will keep them safe, for his breath is down there. It shimmers in the air as though the air's molecules have been bathed in a golden light. And it has a taste and a fragrance that reminds me of the ocean. I breathe in and can feel him on my tongue and in my nostrils. But It's not a memory. It's not the residual trace of a love I have lost. It's not a reminder of him any more than a visit to the sea reminds you of the sea. He is simply there. And I will protect that presence as I protect every influence of love that has shaped my life. I can breathe it out in music. I can lie on my bed at night and rock it to sleep. I can let it well up in my eyes when I am in the shower._

_And the question is, do I wish I could similarly protect the flesh and blood person whose breath is inside me? No. No, I can't wish that. That would be like wanting a wave to stop its journey and arch over forever and never arrive at the shore. Or wanting rain to regret falling. Or a flower to lock up its pollen. Truth is I could protect him from anyone but me and it would have dishonored him, held him back, if I had tried._

_The thing is, and I don't much care how clicheic it sounds, I want him to be happy. He showed me how to do that. So I am doing it. And I don't mind that it is costing me more than just an arm and a leg. I don't mind that there are moments in a day, I admit, when my predilection for the comfort of flesh and food makes the act of living without him seem dishonest, let alone unbearable. But I take a deep breath and feel his presence in my chest, tingling with the ions of his being, and it is enough. It will always be enough._

_As long as there's sun, as long as there's sun, as long as there's rain, as long as there's rain, as long as there's fire, as long as there's fire, as long as there's me, as long as there's you. Thank you Mr Bowie. You are right. The moment you know you know, you know. I don't think I have ever heard a truer or sadder thing in a song. I hope I can write a song like that one day._

He gathered his thoughts and put them in the safe place of his chest. He patted his chest. Job done. He had places to go, people to see. The air outside was cool. A breeze touched his face in passing. As he walked past an apartment building he heard someone picking out notes on a piano. Perhaps it was a child. The discordant notes stuck in his head and he tried to sing them.

 

 


End file.
